


Mark Me

by RikkuShinra



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Body Modification, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:59:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuShinra/pseuds/RikkuShinra
Summary: Kink meme fillAny female character of your choice with a tramp stamp.Maybe Iris got one in a fit of rebellion? Maybe Aranea has one that suits her image to a T? Maybe Luna got a pretty, ornate one as a symbol of freedom? Or Cindy got one in a drunken stupor and will regret it forevermore?+ nonstandard piercings :D





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [Kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11054138#cmt11054138).

Iris Amicitia is the heart throb of Lestallum, fair skinned and head strong, a businesswoman that can negotiate like a shark, she makes men’s knees weak and women jealous. Either because they want to be her or be with her. Talcott follows her dutifully, he’s growing to and they make the perfect team, but no one allows him out unless its with one of the trained Kingsglaive. But Iris is different, she goes with whomever she pleases her brothers protest be damned. If she wants to go with Clyde from D Block, she’ll take him out in the field and show him how to fight daemons.

So when she requests Loqi to accompany her on a simple recon, he is visibly shook. Iris has a reputation now, a fearsome title of Daemon Slayer and does she uphold it. Unlike her brother who spends time holding down the distant Old Lestallum or bumming out in Hammerhead, Iris is on the front lines, perfecting her handy work and rewarding the Glaives she gets to rarely command. When she’s not on the front lines she back in the dredges of running a business in the world shrouded in darkness. It is obvious that her dedication to improving not only herself but her own life has earned her Loqi’s respect, even if she is a Lucian. Around Eos she is on the same level of reverence as Aranea. It’s a women’s world, and honestly, Loqi wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Tummelt!” Iris shouts, pulling her hair up into a messy bun her black tank sticking to her like a second layer of skin. She’s forgone the standard issue Kingsglaive uniform for that of the Hunters. ‘Women can’t be Shields.’ He thinks she must surely be jesting because if there is any thing Iris has proven its that she can be a Shield, she takes a hit just as good as her brother and gives twice what she gets. Unlike Gladio, she doesn’t bare the scars of her battles, she’s still a lady and still cares about her appearance. “Loqi!” She calls for him again, bent over to extract a shining rock set in the stones along an isolated waterfall. They say there is a royal tomb behind it, but he isn’t about to go in there looking for something that isn’t his to begin with. Not when his eyes are stuck to her lower back, right where the back of her tank rides up and pulls away from the top of her pants.

The black ink mars her skin in sharp contrast, the blackest black against pale white. A light dusting of feathers barely hidden by the waist band of her pants. “Do you have a tattoo?”

“What?” Iris frowns, glaring at him over her shoulder. Then she blushes, biting the corner of her lip. “So?” Loqi attempts to glance at it again but she’s turning before he can. “H-hey! You don’t look at Gladdy’s tats like that!”

“Why would I? Not like he tries to hide them anyway.” Iris backed up against the rock, her hands pressed against the back of her pants where the feathers peak out. He had a point, Gladio did tend to peacock with his tats out on full display. The girls flocked in droves. Iris having a tattoo, that was something that piqued his interest, it was scandalous. If it was Aranea, it would be normal, expected. She did have one, many. But Iris?

“Are you going to suggest I show you and you show me?” He hadn’t planned on it, not that he had any tattoos to share, and ear piercings where common place amongst Glaives but then he didn’t even have that. Well any piercings in appropriate places that where easy to share at least.

Instead, he shakes his head adjusting the rifle slung crossed his body. “No, that’s just- your brother would kill me.” His face heats up, damn these women. They have a virtual network in the city, undetectable for spreading gossip. From what he’s gathered from Aranea, they have a ranking system specifically for _those intimate moments,_ she purred out with a smirk and a wiggle of her brows. Despite being in the top ten, Loqi is apparently docked points for ‘obliviousness’; a condition apparently he and Prompto suffer from this as they jointly hold the number three spot while Ignis is second and ironically Libertus is first. Something about eating cookie like a dying man, Aranea boast for the absent man.

Loqi doesn’t have much of a sweat tooth, but alright, sugar cookies sound good.

Mentioning Gladio leaves Iris pouting. At least he thinks as she steps closer tugging him forward by the handle of his rifle, nails scarping against the hem of his shirt and the buckle of his belt. “Oh, I heard you had some work done as well. Shame.” Her eyes drift down, linger at his pecks then lower. “I would have shared” running her hand from the rifle hand up over his jacket she let’s her palm linger over his chest relishing the way his blush extends down his neck, then she pats his cheek condescendingly. “Maybe you’ll change your mind once we’re back in Lestallum.”

When she turns around this time, her pants ride a bit lower, enough that he can tell the color of her panties are Imperial red. “Can you hand me the axe?” Dumbly, Loqi nods placing the axe in her hand his eyes never leaving the black ink and the fine boarder of red and peach wondering what type of bird she got.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just supposed to be a one-shot, but Prompto needs a tattoo also.

"Hey sug, what's that on your back?" Cindy squints, grease rag balled up in her back pocket as she fists her hands on her hips. In the yellow lights of the Hammerhead Garage, nothing is clear and everything takes on an odd distortion. But She swears she sees a tattoo on Prompto's back, an arrow or just a splotch of grease she isn't sure but she’s curious now. 

"What? Oh Em Ge is it a spider?" He shrieks out swatting at his upper back where nothing exists but his tank top that hands-off lithe shoulder. She lets him flail about for a few till she grabs his arm to spin him around, his back facing her. Prompto stills muscles tense as he feels her reach out, even though she hasn’t touched him yet, he can feel her magnetic pull one of the reasons he enjoys spending time with his Goddess. Among many.

"No you goober, right here." She chuckles as she lifts his shirt Prompto cranes his neck, his eyes grow wide and he jerks away pulling the fabric with him. Cindy’s brows come together, her nose scrunches like it always does when she’s upset, but her spreading smirk says something different. Holding it down at his sides, Prompto begins to turn fifteen different shades of red, some Cindy didn’t believe was possible. "Oh my, it is."

"Yeah."

She chuckles taking a step towards him, "well what's it say?" He’s nearly purple, a mix of embarrassment and his heart failing to pump blood correctly now that he's been caught. His lips move but she can't make out what he says. Beside them the only other noise maker in the garage is the A/C and it's on silent mode. "What was that?"

Prompto sighs, "it is an arrow."

"Well, does it say anything?" She crosses her arms which forced her breast up and into his line of sight. “Or, does it lead anywhere?” Her brows unfurl and lift. “Huh?”

Prompto wants to crawl under a rock as he blurts out the words inscribed on his ass, "Noct's fuck hole." Having killed down birds with one vulgar stone, Prompto is glad to see Cindy’s face alight with shock.

Cindy turns a lovely shade of 'oh wow'. "Can I see it?" 

Taken aback, Prompto lessens his grip on his tank, then “why not?" The lovely shade of gratification turns to elation, she grins widely hands clasping in front of her and rocks on her boot heels. Deep regret settles low in his stomach, but he’s already opened the can of grease, may as well use it all right? Is that even something Cid would say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who gave him that? So mean.


End file.
